


Wonder Whose Arms Will Hold You

by poisonivory



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Green Arrow (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics)
Genre: And Jason is possessive and passive aggressive, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Minor Roy Harper/Donna Troy, Minor Roy Harper/Koriand'r, Minor Roy Harper/Kyle Rayner, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Roy's kind of a fuckboy in this one, They Are Problematique (TM)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:00:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28420551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonivory/pseuds/poisonivory
Summary: In the grand scheme of things, seeing Roy cheerfully walk out the door wasn’tthatpainful. It didn’t hurt as much as dying. It didn’t hurt as much as coming back. Still, Jason didn’t actuallylikepain, and he knew if he gently demurred the next time, Roy would hear him. It was the smart thing to do, and that was why he already knew he would never, ever do it.Roy shifted in his sleep, pressing closer to Jason, his strong arm slung heavy over Jason’s waist, his chest a furnace against Jason’s back. This was a bad idea. It had always been a bad idea, and it would be an even worse one in the morning.But for now, Jason was warm.-Roy has a habit of seeking Jason out after a breakup. Jason has a habit of self-destruction.
Relationships: Roy Harper/Jason Todd
Comments: 56
Kudos: 345





	Wonder Whose Arms Will Hold You

**Author's Note:**

> For the following kinkmeme prompt:
> 
> "Jason has unrequited feelings for Roy, but Roy always calls Jason up whenever he and Kori break up. Jason knows he shouldn't expect more, but he still keeps letting Roy fuck him because it makes him feel like he has at least a chance with Roy."
> 
> It...sort of expanded on me? And turned into a Christmas fic? Whoops?
> 
> The title is from "What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?" by Frank Loesser, who did _not_ intend for it to become a holiday standard - the song is much more pathetic if sung in July, for example - but, well, sorry, Frank. I think Roy likes the Lena Horne cover the best.

1\. Spring

Jason let himself into his safehouse, groaning softly as he locked the door behind him and keyed in the security code. It was March, and the days were getting longer, but the nights were still bitterly cold, in keeping with Gotham’s pattern of alternating nine months of icy dampness with three of sweltering, putrid heat.

But summer seemed a world away right now, and the cold—never far at bay since Jason had crawled out of his grave—had seeped into his bones. He turned up the thermostat with one hand as he tugged off his helmet with the other. He wasn’t sure when the heat had last been on in here, but he knew from experience that the building’s ancient pipes took forever to warm up. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed under every blanket he’d stockpiled and wait to stop shivering, but he couldn’t. It hadn’t been a hard night, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have anything to patch up.

He was locking his guns in the safe when his phone buzzed. He slipped it out of his pocket to see a text from Roy: _u in gotham?_

_Yeah,_ he texted back, pausing with the safe door partially open, ready to suit up again. _You need backup?_

_nah. can i come over_

Jason paused again. _Safehouse on East 3rd_ , he texted back after a minute, and shut the safe.

Roy asking to come over in the middle of the night had a few possible explanations. He could be stuck on a case and need someone to work it through with him. He could be craving a drink or a fix and want a distraction until the moment passed. He could have had a fight with Ollie—rare, these days, but possible.

Or it could be something else.

Jason didn’t let himself think about that. Instead, he stripped out of his gear and showered, pulling on sweatpants but not bothering with a shirt, even though it was still _fucking freezing_ in the safehouse. There was a nasty scrape along the top of his shoulder that hadn’t needed immediate medical attention, but he wanted to get some antiseptic gel and a bandage on it before Roy...well. Before.

He was leaning awkwardly forward over the sink, trying to get a good look at the injury in the bathroom mirror, when he heard the security system beep. He didn’t worry about it. Roy knew all his codes.

“Jaybird?” Roy called.

“Bathroom,” Jason called back.

He heard the scuff of Roy taking his boots off. A minute later Roy appeared in the mirror behind him. “Hey, buddy. Yikes, that looks like shit.”

“Thanks,” Jason said dryly. Roy held out a hand and Jason handed him the antiseptic gel, tilting his head to the side to give Roy more room to work. “What’s up?”

“What, I can’t come see my favorite bird at three in the morning?” Roy asked, spreading a thin layer of gel over the raw parts of the wound. Jason shivered at the cool of it, his nipples tightening. “I’m insulted.”

He was evading. “Mm,” Jason said as Roy taped a bandage over the gel, and went for it. “How’s Kori?”

Roy’s fingers stilled in the process of pressing the edges of the bandage down, and then resumed. He kept his gaze trained on Jason’s shoulder. “We, uh. We broke up.”

And there it was. Jason forced back all the warring emotions those three words ignited in him—anger, frustration, a sickening glee and an even more sickening hope—and put nothing but sympathy in his voice when he said “That sucks, man. I’m sorry.”

Roy shrugged. “Hey, it is what it is. I mean, you know Kori. She knows what she wants, and I guess she didn’t want...uh, anything serious right now. Which is fine. I get it. She’s a free spirit, you know?”

“I do,” Jason said. He knew.

He also knew how _happy_ Roy and Kori had been together, a tangle of blazing hair and sunkissed limbs and smiles that could keep even the darkness of Gotham at bay. It was a heat and a joy that Jason’s cold little dead heart had no part of. He didn’t understand how Kori could walk away from that, how she’d walked away from it a few times already—bursting into Roy’s life for a few tumultuous weeks of sex and starbolts and then leaving the instant it looked like it might be becoming serious.

And he knew what happened next. What _always_ happened next.

“It’s fine,” Roy said again. “I mean, it’s a bummer, but I want her to be happy. And you know me. I’m good with whatever. More fish in the sea, right?”

“Oh, so you’re gonna hook up with Tempest now?” Jason asked.

Roy laughed and prodded him in the side. “I’m not his type. Also, he hates that expression. Hooks are not a good thing to Atlanteans.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Jason drawled.

Roy spread his hands over Jason’s shoulders. Even though he’d come in from the freezing outside to the still-cold apartment, just like Jason, his palms were somehow warm. “Shoulder’s done. Got any other parts that need attention?”

Jason was bruised here and there, but there was nothing that could be done for that. “Nah.”

Roy finally met his eyes again in the mirror as his hands slid under Jason’s arms and around to his chest. His lips brushed the curve of Jason’s neck, just above the freshly applied bandage. “You sure about that?”

“Oh, so there _was_ an ulterior motive to this innocent three a.m. visit,” Jason said, keeping his voice steady even as his heartbeat picked up its pace.

“Yeah, to patch you up,” Roy said, trailing kisses along Jason’s neck. “Don’t I deserve a reward for doing such a good job?”

“You put a band-aid on me.”

“Yeah, but I did it _well_.”

Jason couldn’t help laughing, even though he knew he shouldn’t. He should tell Roy no. He should send Roy home.

He never did, though.

Roy’s clever, callused fingers pinched his nipples, making him gasp. “I don’t know, Jaybird, it kind of seems like you’re on board with this,” he said. He pressed up against Jason’s bare back, warm even through his clothes, and there was no mistaking the semi against Jason’s ass. Jason shivered again, this time for a different reason.

He made his inevitable sigh of acquiescence sound as long-suffering as he could. “You don’t get a reward for sticking a band-aid on,” he said, turning around in the circle of Roy’s arms to face him. It was harder and better, facing him, seeing the lurking sadness under the familiar shit-eating “gonna get some” grin. “But show me what _else_ you can do a good job at, and we’ll see.”

Roy’s hands slid down to Jason’s ass as his grin widened. “Deal,” he said, and leaned in for a kiss.

Roy did, in fact, do a good job. Roy ate him out until he was practically incoherent, begging for it, and then put him on his stomach and fucked him into the mattress. Roy kissed all over his spine and neck and shoulders, his lean thighs pressing against Jason’s, his strong hands holding him down, a blanket of living, writhing, uncontainable heat, and Jason buried his face and his feelings in the pillow and just _felt_.

After Jason had come howling into the pillow, after his fingers and toes had stopped tingling and Roy rolled them out of the wet spot and onto their sides, he nuzzled against the back of Jason’s neck and said “So what’s my reward?”

Jason barked out an exhausted laugh. “Jesus. I’ll make you coffee in the morning, how’s that?”

Roy pulled the covers up over them, then flopped back down and gave Jason a squeeze. “Acceptable,” he said. “Night, Jaybird.”

“...Night.”

Roy’s breathing evened out after a minute, but Jason lay awake, staring into the darkness. He’d make Roy coffee in the morning...and Roy would act like nothing had happened between them, like he always did. Oh, he wouldn’t pretend that they hadn’t fucked, but it clearly didn’t change anything for him.

It changed something for Jason. It had changed something the first time Roy had kissed him, maudlin and lonely after being dumped, and ignited a hopeless, ravenous hunger for _more_. More of Roy’s touch. Of his kisses. Of the way he called Jason “baby” when they were fucking, fond and desperate and so much softer than Jason deserved.

Or maybe that hunger had always been there, long before Roy had kissed him. Maybe it had started in Qurac. Maybe it had started when Jason was still Robin and Roy was grown and beautiful and unattainable.

He was still unattainable, of course.

Because Roy would drink his coffee in the morning and leave, all smiles, and Jason gave it maybe two weeks before he was seeing someone again—maybe getting back together with Kori, maybe someone else entirely. Jason would make the appropriate congratulatory noises at the news, and the appropriate consoling noises when they inevitably broke up, and let Roy take him to bed. Let Roy use Jason to forget he wasn’t someone else’s, while Jason tried to forget he wasn’t Roy’s.

In the grand scheme of things, seeing Roy cheerfully walk out the door wasn’t _that_ painful. It didn’t hurt as much as dying. It didn’t hurt as much as coming back. Still, Jason didn’t actually _like_ pain, and he knew if he gently demurred the next time, Roy would hear him. It was the smart thing to do, and that was why he already knew he would never, ever do it.

Roy shifted in his sleep, pressing closer to Jason, his strong arm slung heavy over Jason’s waist, his chest a furnace against Jason’s back. This was a bad idea. It had always been a bad idea, and it would be an even worse one in the morning.

But for now, Jason was warm.

*

2\. Summer

Jason had lost track somewhere along the way, but Donna Troy was either a literal goddess, or close enough to one that no one could tell the difference. She was unflaggingly kind and eternally poised, with actual stardust in her hair, and she could knock heavy hitters like Mongul and Lobo on their asses without breaking a sweat. Jason had nursed a furious crush on her for months after he’d met her as a kid, somewhere in between confused, embarrassing thoughts about Roy’s lips and chest and eyelashes.

She was also Roy’s first love.

Jason hadn’t been surprised when Roy had drifted away from their unofficial partnership to go play with the Titans again. The Titans were everything to Roy, and Jason knew full well the siren call that was Dick Grayson. Grubbing around in the seediest back alleys of the seediest cities in the world with Jason couldn’t compare.

He also wasn’t surprised when Roy and Donna fell back together. From what he gathered, they’d been doing that since they were fifteen. He’d simply texted Roy a thumbs up, and then gone out and beaten the hell out of some arms dealers he’d been tracking for weeks.

A few weeks later, he was cleaning his guns when the phone rang. He tapped the speaker button to answer. “Whatever you did, I’m not taking the fall for it.”

“Aw, come on, Jaybird. Not even if I say please?”

Roy’s tone was flat, flatter than could be blamed on hearing it over the phone. Jason lowered the bore brush he was holding. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“Nothing! I’m just bored. Wanted to hear a friendly voice.”

“Then why’d you call _me?_ ” Jason asked, and was rewarded with a thin laugh. “How are you bored? Where’re all your little super friends?”

“Eh, out,” Roy said. “Garth’s in Atlantis, Vic and Gar are doing...something. Dick’s on a case. Wally could be literally anywhere on the planet. Kori took Raven shopping, which is probably going _swimmingly_.” He paused. “And Donna and I broke up, so she could be anywhere, too.”

“Ah, shit,” Jason said, even as something small and mean in his chest muttered _good_. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s cool,” Roy said. “Hey, we’ve got a pool. I should go swim or something.”

“Roy…”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Roy said. “Gonna swim my troubles away. Talk to you later, Jaybird.” And the line went dead.

Jason sat there, staring at his phone. With an effort, he turned his focus back to the gun in his hands.

A few minutes later he was on his bike, weaving through cars on the highway from Gotham to New York, the July sun beating down against his back.

He was able to let himself into Titans Tower, since they apparently hadn’t bothered to revoke his access even after he’d died, come back, and broken into the west coast Tower and attacked Tim a little. He found Roy sprawled on a deck chair on the roof, staring blankly out over the New York skyline.

“You’re gonna burn, you idiot,” he said.

Roy startled and turned toward him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Jason shrugged and sat down on the deck chair, his tailbone pressed against Roy’s bare side. His swim trunks were hideous. “Heard you had a pool.”

Fuck, no, he couldn’t handle the soft look in Roy’s eyes. “You didn’t have to come all the way out here for me.”

“I’m not here for you, asshole,” Jason said, and pointed to the pool. “Again: pool.”

“I don’t see a bathing suit,” Roy said, and then grinned. “You gonna skinny dip, Jaybird? It’s against the rules, but I won’t tell Dick if you don’t.”

“Mm,” Jason said, noncommittal, and just looked at Roy. It was a scorchingly hot day, without a single cloud in the sky, and Jason was sticky and gross in the jeans and leather jacket he’d worn for the drive. Roy’s chest was already a little pink under a sheen of sweat, and the freckles across his nose stood out darker than usual.

Roy folded his hands over his stomach and stared at something past Jason’s shoulder. “I told her I loved her.”

Jason didn’t break anything. He didn’t throw any of the other chairs into the pool, or off the roof. He just nodded.

“She said she loved me, too...but not like that.” The corner of Roy’s mouth turned up. “I guess the only part of me she liked as more than a friend was my dick.”

“It’s a pretty nice dick,” Jason agreed.

Roy flinched at that. Jason had clearly said the wrong thing, although he wasn’t sure what.

“It’s my own fault, I guess,” Roy said after a pause. “I told her we could be casual. I’m _good_ at casual. I just...forgot.”

Jason _had_ to touch him, had to do something to shake that look off his face. He put a hand on Roy’s stomach, just a light touch, and when he moved it the skin went white for a minute before fading back to pink.

“You’re already burned,” he said. “Did you put _anything_ on?”

“Oops?”

Jason sighed and stood up. “You need to stop moping and get out of the sun,” he said, holding out a hand to Roy.

“I’m not _moping_. I’m _relaxing poolside_.”

“You’re giving yourself skin cancer because you’re a stubborn idiot.”

Roy let Jason pull him to his feet. “Fine, I’ll get in the water,” he said.

“That’ll make it worse!” Jason protested, but Roy was already cannonballing into the deep end. Jason waited until Roy had surfaced and could see him before he rolled his eyes. “Don’t come crying to me when you’re bright red and peeling.”

Roy flipped wet hair out of his eyes and leaned his arms on the side of the pool, his mouth tilting into a grin. “Like you don’t want to rub me down with aloe. Come on, get in.”

Jason gestured to himself. “You’re the one who pointed out I’m not wearing a suit.”

“Not like I haven’t seen it before,” Roy pointed out. “Come on, Jaybird, come swim with me.”

Jason hesitated. He knew perfectly well what would happen if he got into the pool with Roy, naked, especially when Roy was in rebound mode, and it was a terrible idea. Roy needed to get out of the sun and go talk about his feelings with someone more qualified and less biased than Jason. Jason needed to stop letting Roy fuck him to distract himself from feeling sad.

But more than that, Jason needed to touch Roy.

He sighed theatrically, just so that Roy wouldn’t think he was as easy as he actually was, and peeled off his jacket. The summer breeze on his bare skin as he stripped was a relief, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing when Roy let out a wolf whistle.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, and jumped into the water next to Roy. It wasn’t cold, not after sitting on the roof of a metal building in the sun, but it was cooler than the open air, and that was enough.

When he came up for air, Roy immediately splashed him in the face, making him choke and splutter. “What are you, twelve?” he demanded once he could speak, blinking stinging chlorine out of his eyes. Roy just laughed, daring him with his grin, and Jason gave in to the urge to reach for him, ducking Roy under the water and then springing back before Roy could retaliate.

They wrestled and splashed until Jason was breathless and laughing, and when Roy put a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss, it was no more surprising than the fact that he’d called Jason in the first place, or that Jason had impulsively driven all the way up here the second he’d hung up. Jason let Roy back him up against the edge of the pool, let Roy press up against him and stroke him under the water until he was hard.

Roy patted the ledge behind Jason. “Up, come on, sit up here.”

“Thought you wanted me _in_ the pool,” Jason said.

“Yeah, well, I can’t suck you off underwater, so you can either wait for Garth to come back or get your ass up there,” Roy said.

It was a pretty good argument. Jason got his ass up there.

There were no preliminaries. There never were. Roy dove down on his dick like there was nowhere else he wanted to be, and Jason let him, leaning back with his hands curved around the concrete lip of the pool.

For a guy who spent half his life chasing after every pretty girl who batted her eyelashes at him, Roy Harper sucked cock like a champ. Jason loved the way Roy worked his tongue along the underside of his dick. He loved the feeling of Roy’s fingernails digging into the meat of his thighs. He loved R—

No.

He tilted his face up to the sun, eyes shut and fingers tangled in Roy’s wet hair. The light forced its way under his eyelids and made them water, or maybe it was the chlorine. He would burn too, out in the open like this, slower than Roy did but slower to fade. Roy burned and healed and forgot and burned again. Jason would wear this day on his skin for weeks.

He bit down on his own hand when he came, to stop himself from saying anything stupid or disastrous. Roy jerked himself off under the water, his face pressed against Jason’s stomach, panting out damp hot breaths against Jason’s feverish skin while Jason stroked his hair.

After, Roy mouthed lazy kisses against Jason’s stomach for a few minutes until he suddenly shivered. “I’m freezing.”

“You’ve probably got sun poisoning, you jackass. Come on, let’s get inside.”

Roy shivered harder in the air conditioned Tower. Jason got him down to his room and into sweats that wouldn’t feel as harsh against his skin once the burn started to hurt, and made him lie down. “You’re supposed to stay hydrated when you’re sunburned,” he said. “I’ll get you some water.”

Roy snagged his wrist as he passed the bed. “You’re so fucking good to me, Jaybird.”

He was a wreck to look at—red and blotchy all over his face and down his neck, white spots standing out like reverse freckles. His hair was drying in stiff clumps and the shadows under his eyes were purple and bruised.

And the way he was smiling at Jason made him feel fifteen all over again, standing in this very building with a confused flutter in his stomach that he hadn’t quite realized was a crush yet.

“Yeah, well, if I let you char yourself into oblivion, who’s gonna watch my back?” he asked gruffly, and tugged his wrist free from Roy’s grasp.

He was coming back from the kitchen with a glass of water when he heard footsteps, and then a knock. He rounded the corner to see Donna easing Roy’s door open.

“Roy? It’s Donna. Can we talk? About us?” she asked, and walked into the room. “Oh, sweetie, what did you do to yourself?”

The door shut.

Jason took a deep breath.

Then he turned and walked out of the Tower.

He was halfway to his bike when he realized he was still holding the stupid glass of water. Smashing it against the rocky edge of Titans Island didn’t actually make him feel any better, but at least he didn’t have to carry it back inside. Where Roy was. With Donna.

It was a long, hot drive back to Gotham.

*

3\. Fall

Jason adored Kori, and he admired and respected Donna, but he’d always found Kyle Rayner annoying as fuck. It was sort of refreshing to be able to hate someone Roy was with with a pure, clean loathing.

The good thing was that the thing between Roy and Kyle wasn’t serious, not like Roy had been with Kori or Donna—they just hooked up when Kyle was planetside. The bad thing was that Jason kept finding the evidence of Kyle on Roy’s skin—hickeys and bites and fingernail marks. Kyle was scrappy in bed, it appeared.

There was a bite mark on the curve of Roy’s right shoulder tonight. Jason had worried at it while he’d fucked Roy, mouthed and bit at it until it was bigger and redder than it had been when Roy had first taken his shirt off.

He could see it now, lying in bed next to Roy. He told himself he wasn’t proud of the instinct to claim his territory—territory that wasn’t even _his_ , not really—but that didn’t stop the dark little curl of satisfaction in his stomach every time he looked at it.

“So how long’s Pretty Boy gonna be in space this time?” he asked, because he couldn’t leave well enough alone.

Roy gave a mock gasp. “Does that mean you don’t think _I’m_ pretty?” he asked.

He wasn’t, though, not the way Kyle was. Kyle looked like the frontman of a boy band. Roy’s features bordered on handsome, but his appeal lay in movement and charisma rather than matinee-idol good looks—the crooked angle of his smile, the flex of his arms, the easy sprawl of his body language when he was turning on the charm. It was harder to name and, for Jason at least, harder to forget.

But Roy had been joking, and didn’t wait for an answer. “He said this would be a short one, probably—he wanted to be back for Halloween. There’s this party he wants to go to in New York.” He nudged Jason’s ankle with his toes under the blanket. “You should come with us.”

Jason snorted. “Willingly socialize with Rayner? I’ll pass, thanks.”

Halloween was less than two weeks away, and felt closer on a night like this, with the moon full and bare branches scratching against the windows. Jason thought he could feel the chill radiating off of the windowpanes from all the way across the room, and he knew it would only get worse for the next few months. It was too little time to have Roy to himself.

“You guys have a lot more in common than you think,” Roy said.

“I will shoot you.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll let it go.” Roy was silent for a long moment, staring up at the ceiling. He either hadn’t noticed Jason watching him from the corner of his eye, or didn’t care. “I think Kyle’s in love with my brother.”

Jason frowned. “Is that the part that you think we have in common? Because I’m definitely not in love with Connor. No offense.”

“Nah,” Roy said, and tilted him half a smile. “More like you have the same taste when you’re slumming it.”

Jason opened his mouth, then shut it. He was pathetic enough without advertising it by letting Roy know just how carefully he hoarded whatever moments Roy could spare between the people he wanted to do more with than just fuck away the boredom.

“It’d be nice, wouldn’t it?” Roy asked, after another long pause. This time Jason only merited a quarter smile. “To be someone’s first choice?”

His eyes were too clear, too earnest. Jason couldn’t bear them.

“If you’re gonna be a sap in the middle of the night, you can do it in someone else’s bed, Harper,” he said, and rolled onto his side, facing away.

It was the setup for any number of dumb jokes, and he waited for the punchline, the warm heavy arm slung over his waist.

But Roy just said “Sorry” after a minute, and Jason felt the bed shift as he rolled to face the other way.

Jason didn’t warm up all night.

*

4\. Winter

Alfred had always gone all out for Christmas at Wayne Manor. Jason could still remember the wonder of it as a boy: the decorations, the elaborate breakfast and even more sumptuous dinner, the pile of presents under the eight-foot-tall tree that were somehow mostly for him. It was like Christmas in a movie, the kind where miracles happened and wishes came true.

There were few places he’d rather be less, now.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t welcome this year. Things with Bruce were tense—they probably always would be—but not hostile. Dick had sent him several dozen nagging texts urging him to come home, and Alfred had dropped a few broad hints over comms. Cass had characteristically given him his space and Damian and Duke probably didn’t much care, but Tim had sent him a text with no words, just a photo of the mantle with a line of stockings hung on it. Jason’s old plaid one from when he was twelve was plainly visible, right between Dick’s and Tim’s.

It was tempting as hell.

It was too much of a fantasy.

Christmas in a mansion with Alfred’s roast goose and Nat King Cole on the record player belonged to that little boy from long ago, not the man with so many kills to his name he’d lost count. The whole _point_ of Christmas was to kindle a light to keep the midwinter darkness at bay. Jason would bring the darkness with him.

Roy wasn’t having any of it.

“Come to Star City,” he’d said over the phone when Jason had confessed his plan of ordering pizza and reading _The Stranger_.

“Why? They sell kombucha on the east coast now too, you know.”

Roy laughed. “Because I have to be here to make an appearance at Ollie’s at some point and I don’t like the thought of you trawling Goodreads for the most depressing nihilist fiction to read alone in your underwear.”

“I’ll probably be wearing pants.”

“Jason.” Roy’s voice was soft, and Jason had no resistance. “Come to Star City. Spend Christmas with me.”

Jason went to Star City.

The last-minute options for transcontinental flights on Christmas Eve weren’t great, and the lousy weather turned five hours in the air into almost seven. They didn’t touch down until after dinner, which was nearing midnight on the east coast. Which would have been fine, given Jason’s usual sleep schedule, if he hadn’t been running on sixty hours of no sleep after spending the past two nights taking down a trafficking ring with extreme prejudice. And even a first class seat was hard for a man of Jason’s size to sleep in, especially when every time he closed his eyes he heard screaming.

It would pass. It always did.

Star had a different kind of rainy dampness than Gotham, cleaner and colder. The wind whistled through Jason like a knife even in the cab to Roy’s place. Lights twinkled blearily through the rain-splattered windows, the businesses beneath them dark and shuttered by now. Everyone was home with their families.

Jason had flown across the country to get away from his.

But no, that wasn’t exactly true. Because he’d come to see Roy.

He didn’t have any illusions about what this was. Roy had invited a friend who he also happened to enjoy fucking. Nothing more.

But for a night, he’d get to pretend. He’d have Roy’s warmth under the covers to keep the ever-present chill away, at least temporarily. It was more than he’d had most years since he’d come back.

Roy lived in downtown Star City, close enough to the historic district to be kind of faded around the edges without being close enough to be trendy. Jason felt some of the exhausted weight lift off of his chest when the door opened and there was Roy, all smiles and ripped jeans and the ugliest, most moth-eaten sweater Jason had ever seen.

“Fucking _finally_ ,” Roy said as Jason dragged his suitcase inside, and then hugged him, heedless of the fact that Jason was damp with freezing rain. “I was this close to calling Clark and having him snag you off the plane.”

“Yes, that would have been subtle,” Jason said, turning his cold nose into the warmth of Roy’s neck and grinning when Roy yelped.

“Come on, take this wet stuff off and come eat, you must be starved,” Roy said. “I got us vegan acai bowls from this place around the corner, they’re amazing.”

Jason paused while unlacing his boots and gave Roy a suspicious look. “You fucking liar.”

“Yeah, okay, I got us meat lovers’ burritos from the Mexican place. You’re so easy to fuck with, though,” Roy said. “You do have to try Connor’s nut loaf thing tomorrow and tell him it’s good, though.”

Jason blinked. “I’m coming to Ollie’s?”

“I...yes?” Roy said. “Did you think I was going to leave you here to read your sad murder books alone on Christmas? Of course you’re invited, Ollie and Dinah are expecting you.” His brow creased. “Unless you don’t want to come…? I guess we could just stay here.”

Now it was Jason’s turn to frown. “You said you _had_ to put in an appearance at Ollie’s.”

“Yeah, but that was before you were here.” Roy shrugged. “I’m not leaving you _alone_ , Jay.”

Jason was tired. Jason was so desperately, bone-achingly tired, and that was probably why Roy’s matter-of-fact tone made his eyes sting. He focused very hard on shrugging out of his coat, blinking rapidly.

“I would be honored to try Connor’s nut loaf thing,” he said, and was relieved that his voice sounded mostly normal.

Roy led the way to the kitchen, where he popped the burritos in the microwave and opened the fridge to peer inside. “You want something to drink? I have...water. And iced coffee. And...water.”

Jason didn’t want anything to drink. He barely wanted the burrito. He just wanted to burrow somewhere inside that horrible sweater with Roy and stay there until New Year’s.

Well, Roy never hesitated when _he_ wanted to touch. Jason stepped in to press himself against Roy’s back, breathing in the familiar scent of the nape of Roy’s neck. “What I want is to eat fast so we can—”

He felt Roy stiffen against him, and not in a good way. At first he thought that Roy just didn’t want Jason touching him, but that tiny, pained inhale said it was something else. Jason stepped back.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, skimming his gaze over Roy’s body, looking for the telltale signs of injury under that oversized sweater.

“No,” Roy said, turning to face him, but neither his tone nor his expression was convincing.

“Are. You. Hurt,” Jason snapped.

Roy sighed. “It’s not that kind of hurt.”

Jason lifted his eyebrows and waited.

“There was a League of Assassins thing last night,” Roy said. “They tried to kill the mayor, you know, their usual. We had a whole Arrowfam teamup.” His expression got even cagier. “Cheshire was there.”

Jason breathed out slowly through his nostrils. “Tell me she poisoned you.”

“Uh. Not exactly.” Looking sheepish, Roy turned back around and hiked up both his sweater and the t-shirt he was wearing underneath to reveal a series of long red scratches down his back. He hadn’t gotten those from fighting.

The weight was back on Jason’s chest. “Right,” he said. “So did you fuck her before or after she killed the mayor?”

“We _stopped_ them,” Roy said, as if Jason was the one being ridiculous here. “And then we...well, you know Jade and I have history.”

“Jade. Right.” Jason stepped back. He knew all about their history, and what it meant—that Roy was perfectly capable of falling in love with a murderer. Just not Jason. Even a terrorist wanted in two dozen nations ranked above him. “You just fucked her after you invited me out here.”

“Watch your mouth,” Roy said, his brow furrowing. “And wait a minute, why are you suddenly pissed at me?”

Jason let out a hollow laugh. “Of course. I’ve never been pissed before, right? This is just what you do. You gave up the drugs and the booze, but hell if you’ll give up fucking anyone who pays you ten seconds of attention, huh?”

Roy jerked back like Jason had hit him. Jason would’ve felt guilty if he wasn’t so angry, and if Roy’s temper hadn’t ignited a half-beat later to match his.

“Excuse the fuck out of you?” Roy said. “I don’t know what the goddamn hell my sobriety has to do with this, or what business it is of yours who I sleep with…”

“Of course it’s not my fucking business!” Jason shot back. “You made that perfectly clear, didn’t you? I’m just there when you’re sad or lonely or bored. And that’s fine, Roy, I get it, I really do. When it’s Kori or Donna or even fucking _Rayner_ , sure. They’re heroes. There’s no way I’m gonna measure up.”

“Wait, what are you—”

“But _Cheshire?_ ” Jason asked, steamrolling over him, all the buried resentment and hurt pouring out at once. “All these years and you're still carrying a torch for a murderer, but you couldn’t be bothered to light one for me?”

Roy’s eyes went wide and Jason realized what he’d said. What he’d essentially confessed to.

_Fuck._

“I… _shit_ ,” he said, backing up.

Roy took a step toward him. “Jason—”

“No.” Jason didn’t want to hear the explanation, the excuse. He didn’t want to hear anything. “Call her back if you want. I gotta go.”

He grabbed his bag and his coat and was out in the cold rainy night before Roy said anything else.

*

Jason didn’t have a safehouse in Star, but Bruce did. Someone back home was going to get a ping from the security system that Jason was using it, but right now Jason didn’t care about whatever embarrassing and probably accurate conclusions they drew from that.

The safehouse was a small but well-appointed apartment that clearly hadn’t been used in at least a year. The building was modern and the heat kicked on willingly when Jason adjusted the thermostat, but even though there was warm air coming out of the vents when he put his hand to them, it felt like there was no change in the overall temperature. He didn’t bother to unpack or look for food, just stripped off his outer layers and crawled into the bed.

Of course, once he was there, there was nothing left to do but shiver and replay every second of the fight with Roy. What the fuck was wrong with him? He’d always known he was just one of the many names on Roy’s dance card. He thought he’d made his peace with it. 

It was his own fault, for making this Christmas visit into something more than it was. For thinking there was anything but friendship behind his invitation to Ollie’s. For thinking he meant something special to Roy when there had been someone else in Roy’s bed before Jason arrived, and there would always be someone after.

But Roy wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t cruel. He’d figure out that Jason was hung up on him like the pathetic loser he was, and he’d cut him loose rather than keep him dangling and suffering. Never mind that Jason would rather suffer than be on his own.

Of course, Roy might not want anything to do with him at all after that comment about drugs.

It had been inevitable, probably. Jason hadn’t been enough for any of his parents—the ones who’d raised him; the one who left him; the one who found him. He’d lucked into a new fairy tale life and fucked that up so thoroughly that he couldn’t imagine darkening their door on Christmas without a surge of guilty dread. So of _course_ he’d ruined the best friendship he’d ever had with his stupid libido and even more unruly heart.

Ending up alone had been unavoidable. Being able to keep his stupid fucking mouth shut would have only been a stay of execution, not a pardon.

Knowing that didn’t leave Jason any less cold, though.

*

Jason woke to the smell of coffee and bacon and the sound of someone singing softly. He frowned, reaching instinctively under his pillow for the knife he usually kept there before realizing he knew that voice. It didn’t make any sense that he would be hearing it here, now, but...he knew that voice.

He got out of bed and eased the bedroom door open. Sure enough, Roy was standing at the stove flipping pancakes and singing along to his phone.

“Oh, but in case I stand one little chance...here comes the jackpot question in advance...what are you doing New Year’s...New Year’s Eve?”

“Roy?”

Roy turned, and the soft, cautious expression on his face made no sense at all, not after how Jason had left last night. “Hey, Jaybird. How’d you sleep?”

Jason stared at him—at the stack of golden pancakes steaming on a plate next to him, the crisp strips of bacon draining on paper towels, the freshly brewed pot of coffee. Roy’s hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and there was flour on his jeans. “What are you doing here? How did you even know where I was?”

“Well, it was too late to get a flight back east, and I knew you didn’t have a safehouse in town, but I figured Bruce had to.” Roy eased the last pancake out of the pan with the spatula and turned the stove off. “Dick did not enjoy the four a.m. call, but he gave me the address and the security code. And what’s a little lock picking between friends?”

Jason shook his head—not to argue with Roy’s words, but with this whole baffling situation. “Why are you _here?_ ”

“I told you I wasn’t letting you spend Christmas alone.” Roy said it so easily it made Jason’s chest hurt. “I only know how to cook like three things, but luckily pancakes make for a pretty festive Christmas breakfast.”

“Roy.” Jason’s voice came out strangled. He didn’t want pity. He might take it anyway.

“Yeah, okay. Can’t joke it away forever.” Roy put down the spatula. The playful expression fell away. “You know, I didn’t sleep at all last night? I kept playing what you said over again in my head, thinking I couldn’t be interpreting it right, and I kept coming back to the same conclusion...”

Jason’s stomach churned, empty as it was. He braced himself to be let down easy.

“That you’re braver than I’ve ever managed to be,” Roy said. “You were brave enough to be honest, and I’ve never been honest with you. If I was, I’d have told you I loved you years ago.”

Jason’s ears rang. He couldn’t speak.

“I’m in love with you,” Roy said, like he wanted to make things crystal clear. “I have been for ages. I figured you were just having fun and I didn’t want to ruin things, so I never said anything, but yeah. It’s you, Jaybird.”

“No.” Jason’s voice was barely audible. “You love Donna. You love _Jade_.”

“Yeah, I do,” Roy said with an easy shrug. “Or I did. Or maybe I was trying to love them again because I thought I couldn’t have you.”

He tilted the end of the last sentence up, not quite a question, but Jason wasn’t ready to answer it yet. “I don’t...last summer! You got back together with Donna like five minutes after we fucked!”

“You _left!_ ” Roy said. “You said you were getting me some water and you never came back! Every time I tried to talk about anything serious, you called me names and changed the subject! Can you blame me for thinking you just wanted to fool around?” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah, okay, so maybe I’m bad at being alone. You had me pegged, last night.”

“No,” Jason said, “no, I shouldn’t have said that—”

Roy kept talking. “But I didn’t keep coming back to you because you were convenient. I kept coming back to you because I couldn’t stay away.”

“Roy,” Jason said again. This didn’t make any _sense_. Roy was so far out of his league it was laughable. Of all the gorgeous, perfect people he’d been with, there was no reason on earth for him to pick Jason.

But Roy had never lied to him before.

Roy came closer, reaching out a tentative hand to snag Jason’s wrist. “You asked me why I never lit a torch for you. I don’t need to.” His smile was watery and faint, but true. “You’re already a whole fucking bonfire.”

Jason’s fingers closed helplessly on Roy’s sweater. “Roy…” He couldn’t seem to say anything else.

“Hey.” Roy curved his hand around the back of Jason’s neck. “You gonna give me something here, or just let me dangle?”

“You stupid fucking…” Jason kissed him, sinking into it with an embarrassing muffled sob. He’d thought he’d never get to have this again. “Of course I love you, you moron.”

It was terrifying to say, but Roy had done it, so he could, too. Roy thought he was brave.

“Still calling me names.” Roy cupped Jason’s face in his hands and kissed his mouth, his cheeks.

“Sorry,” Jason mumbled as Roy pressed a kiss to his eyebrow, the one with the scar running through it.

“As long as I’m _your_ moron.”

“Are you?” Jason slipped his hands under Roy’s sweater, pressed his palms against the soft warm skin of his back.

“Yeah, baby,” Roy said, eyes crinkling, and Jason’s heart stuttered. He’d never called Jason that before when they weren’t naked. “If you want me, I’m all yours. Only yours.”

“ _Mine_ ,” Jason said, trying it out, and felt Roy shiver under his hands. His mouth curved. “You like that?”

Roy pressed in close and nuzzled his neck. “Say it again and I’ll show you how much I like it.”

Jason let his hands slide up higher, hiking up Roy’s sweater. “What about your pancakes?”

“They’ll keep,” Roy said. “Take me to bed.”

Jason took him to bed. Jason stripped him naked and reclaimed every inch of the territory that had apparently somehow, miraculously, always been his—the freckles and tattoos and scars, all familiar and adored.

“What do you want?” Roy asked, hands roaming over Jason’s skin like he couldn’t bear to stop touching any more than Jason could.

“Your mouth,” Jason said. “I want your mouth, and then I want your dick.”

Roy grinned. “Greedy boy.”

“You better fucking believe it,” Jason said, tipping his head back as Roy kissed his way down over Jason’s stomach and settled between his thighs. He was greedy and selfish and hated to share—and that seemed to be exactly what Roy wanted from him.

“Yeah, Roy, just like that,” he breathed as Roy took him deep, tugging on those soft copper locks the way he knew Roy liked. “Show me that you’re mine.”

Roy moaned wetly around his dick and refused to pull off, even when Jason tugged harder, even when he warned Roy he was coming, even when he spilled down Roy’s throat with a shout. Only then did Roy pull back, wiping his mouth with a smug, shaky look of satisfaction.

“Feeling good, Jaybird?” he asked.

“I told you I wanted your dick,” Jason protested half-heartedly, too caught up in the post-orgasm high to be too upset about it.

“Yeah, but I think you can go again for me, can’t you, baby?” Roy asked, trailing his fingers up Jason’s thighs. Jason shivered and shifted on the bed. “You’re not the only one who’s greedy here.”

Jason could go again, it turned out. He was hard again before Roy finished opening him up, making embarrassingly impatient noises until Roy sank into him, hot and thick and perfect. His hands found their way to the scratches on Roy’s back, and the twinge of renewed jealousy they sparked gave way to pleasure when Roy shuddered hard and surged forward, pressing his face into Jason’s neck.

“ _Jason_ ,” he groaned. He’d always liked a little rough handling, Jason knew. “Not gonna last if you do that.”

Jason tempted fate by giving the scratches another prod. Roy’s hips snapped forward. “I’m the one who gets to do it now, though. Only me.”

“Only you,” Roy agreed, mouthing at his throat.

“And this,” Jason said, pulling Roy up to bite at his jaw, remembering the marks of Kyle’s teeth. “And this,” he added, tugging Roy into a kiss.

“Please,” Roy breathed against his mouth, his voice shaking like he wanted to be kept as badly as Jason wanted to keep him. “Only you, baby. No one else.”

_No one else._ Jason closed his eyes and held Roy even tighter and let himself believe it.

Afterwards, he tried it one more time.

“Mine,” he whispered, combing his fingers through Roy’s sweaty hair. Roy kissed his bare chest and snuggled closer.

“Yeah, baby,” he said. “All yours. And you’re mine.”

Jason hadn’t belonged to anyone in a long time, not really. He didn’t think he’d missed it. Judging by the way his eyes were suddenly stinging, he had.

“Sure,” he agreed, when he could speak. “Seems fair.”

Roy’s thumb stroked idly along the side of Jason’s ribcage. “You hungry? You never wound up having dinner last night. I can heat the pancakes back up. And it’s been my turn to make coffee for ages.”

“In a bit,” Jason said, and burrowed closer. He _was_ a little hungry, admittedly. He was, bizarrely, sort of looking forward to going to Ollie’s later. He was even thinking about calling the manor, just to say hi to everyone.

But more importantly, he was warm from the inside out, and for the first time in years it felt like it might be a warmth he could keep. He didn’t want to be any place but here.

“All right,” Roy said, tipping his chin up to look at him, and now Jason knew that soft smile belonged to him alone. “Merry Christmas, Jaybird.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Come say hi on tumblr!](https://pluckyredhead.tumblr.com/)


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